adrift at sea waves upon waves crashing down on metrying to destroy this tree that Ive been growingin the distance after every couple of seconds with out a tunnel to wait patiently at the end ofthis beaming light is showing the flicker of hope like the dope on the ropeswho fell on that slippery slopeif you live by safety first you may live to ask questions latertossed and turnedim forced to depend on what ive lost and learnedevery storm pass and if you need glasses to see clearly rely on other scenes, show persistence with out resistance my beacon is still blinking steady but inconsistentall i want is a sturdy shore absent of occupants for me to exploreone with fertile soilfree from tribulations and trialwhere the only occupations and responsibility belong to kyle barron hayeshis companions caring gaze and his trees soft soft shade

A name, for name’s sake,A keepsake that is mine.Like soft clay that hardens in the sun, a name cements me into being, into a thing.

Sounding through the walls of the inner canal, a name rings out like bells. My body and flesh rejoice, as the name floats seamlessly between layers. A flutter to find the name inside. Flesh aligns with sound. It fits.

An aim. Passion bottled as direction. Upways, sideways, any way moves me. Unstuck me from a point and push me forward. A flutter of air behind me, momentum like a flash and a burst.

Like a spinning top, I make a stride. A name marks my steps in ink. I glance behind and see the trail. A name is what I entail. Shimmering like a new penny in the sun, a name catches a glow.

Anticipating, not sure if there was even an end. And then—it came, a name of my own.

im gunna love u until the sky falls or is torn.im gunna show u that together forever we transform.im gunna take u above this place far away from harm.im gunna light u like a candle in a winter storm.im gunna watch u as u flicker in between my arms

if you were freezing id give u my coat, id scale the castle with the fiery moat.spend days at sea adrift in a boat; first night on land i swore i could float.its the sound of the quire all on the same note

kissing an angle is a heavenly treat, the kind of girl my mother will meet.from that first moment i took my seat, i saw ur glow from head to feet.not like the others i pass in the street

like two we flow or a garden that grows content and thorough.you descend ever so slow and take me from out my lows.

you kissed me and it hit me like a train of thoughts.i have now fallen for you but you had not.you have the power and that's the problem, i often get left outit all seems to go so well until it drops right off.

heart enters throat.

i feel your toxins the taste is rotten but its all i got.its like the honey when it freezes ive now become stuck.an example in luck.

like a balanced scale.heaven or hell.heads or tails.goods and evils.neither prevail as the other fails.﻿~kbh

Slowing effacing, quietly defecating the soulWhile polluting the bones and matter of the whole.Drugged and feeling, uncontrollably believingHigh in mind, the reaction worthy and relieving

Temporal is the time that steals this mind,Returning to me only to find reddened eyes,Noting how little was effaced, how little erased.Memory flooding back, slapping this pretty face.

Tightened chest, muscles dismal and in duress,Soulful-soul full again drips of toxins and distressIn matter of time, remember these passing moments byWhile t’was good to forget, memory is nothing to deny.

A single monologue twirked, tweaked, spun round a spindle like spun wool. Stretched across, now, more mouths than one.Make room to expand like a hot air balloon in flight.

Beginnings from a single mouth start and stutter.Middles pushed forth by the mouth of another. Dialogue separated by air, by space lunged toward a center. Words proclaimed an aim, a stance. An arrow with an end. To be an aim. A word, a monologue straining to be seen.

Soliloquy. Empty sockets of light. Eyes still dim.

A dialogue with two eyes, intermingled like the eye of a storm. More tongues than one, voices in concert on a single wave. A multilogue.

A word to inspire, to hover over our heads and trumpet a rhythm like a beating drum. We pivot around you, dance around you in a craze like a moth around a flame. Thump, thump: words bump on our chests, spit and sputter from our limbs. Words lick our skin like fire on wood.

You sound out with a hiss and sizzle. I raise my glass and toast to you, bubbles bounce and chatter with air.My tongue explores words like fingers explore a lover’s body.

Throw out a word, it will find its way around the twists and bends. Some bends are blind, no end in sight. It dangles,on the precipice.

Misplaced syllables resonate strong, lurking and searching for a home.

Five days frozen.I have been five days still and shut.In this mind the only satisfaction comes By feeble attempts to manage this choking heart.

To venture this far is a feat somehow rewardedWith blaring defiant large X’s on each of the nowOne two three four onto five calendar days.

The ever present frustration and manifestation of thisMakes words difficult and makes meditation easier,Finding simplicity in the challenge to discourage emotionsOnly willed to control their severe presence in my eyes

She draws in a deep breath and she could almost taste a hint of heaviness, could feel its texture on her tongue. For the air was thick like sauce with ideas. Filled to the brim with the will-bes and the might-have-beens-but-never-weres, the air heaves a great sigh; in this exhale, the potential moments to be lived/ideas to be thought and spoken spread forth like fingers.

She keeps coming back to the idea of a single mass. The single mass of shadows. The air sighing and exhaling a mass of ideas like a fog, as if there is but one long chain of thought that that engulfs all languages, all tongues, all visions, all emotions. It floats above their heads like a balloon, connected to its owner by a thread tied in a loose knot. Sometimes the knot comes undone, comes loose from your grip and the balloon floats away. But it does not disappear, no. It only joins the mass of other balloons above our heads, lost or waiting to be claimed. All different colors are these balloons, all different sizes. Some filled with passion, some filled with pride, others filled with cold, damp cries. They do not burst for they are not like your everyday rubber balloon. Their membranes are flexible, malleable and continuously form and unform with the abutting balloons in a constant game of osmosis.

Part I: A VoiceAs the tongue, so too does the body. Swollen with anticipation of words to come, brows tense and lips pucker.

A rustle of the tongue against the lips, a wave of feeling undulates and wedges itself in the pause between syllables. Like a whirlwind, they swirl in an upward spiral, growing larger, capturing more in its path and drawing them in.

Sounds carried forth by the same breeze, two voices in the same breath.

A voice swirling up around the curve of the nose and permeate the corners of the eyes. A fog befalls the senses like hot breath on skin. Like a pushpin in sand, sinking deep in every pore.Surge forth: massage the spine with tingles.

Like a blanket over fire, air encircles sound.Spread it wide like stretched fingers.

Part II: A WordI fight for a word to fit. To stick to me like honey on bread. Try them on.Arrange them like flowers in a vase.

I look for a word to bend with me, flex with me. Support me and speak for me. Grab my tendrils and relay for me.

I start to speak, I sputter and stall. Words like tin: hot in the sun, cold in the shade. A shadow on fire.

Part III: An IdeaClipped threads and bits collect. Scooped together by the handful. Stews and churns. It prods my mind like a feather in a pillow pokes the skin.

So small, a tiny molecule of gathered shreds. It could fall through the gap, dispel and dilute before it reaches my lips. Cognition aims, exhausts the edge, exert its might. An idea, I think.

Part IVTwo leaves caught in the same whirlwind. Breath charges, spiraling around my tongue.My ears drink up voices like a thirsty tongue laps up water. Words spoken, a release. Tongue falls to the back of the throat with ease, the bowels of the earth release and exhale.